


The Hotel California

by koizoras (parkchanyeol)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Crossover, M/M, Romance, Slice of Life, mentions of mental health issues, trash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-18
Updated: 2017-10-18
Packaged: 2019-01-10 20:05:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12306747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parkchanyeol/pseuds/koizoras
Summary: When Kyungsoo gets into a public scandal that has paparazzi camping outside his apartment and his jobs cancelled one after another, he falls into a seemingly incurable slump. His manager promptly takes action — by forcing him on a ten-day “vacation” at a hotel deep in the forest, where there’s no internet, no satellite reception, and no form of entertainment apart from VHS.





	The Hotel California

**Author's Note:**

> PROMPT #: 96
> 
> Hi prompter, thanks for the idea. This fic ran away from me, well and truly. I almost definitely took this in a different (and highly far-fetched) direction from what you intended, but uh... hope you won't mind? Also if this seems horribly rushed and messy, it's because I wrote most of the fic in two days. I'm sorry. 
> 
> [Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/arenaaor/playlist/0b7Ji1agfqXSOPKHwuysUr) for anyone who's interested.

One afternoon in late September, Do Kyungsoo was awakened by the sound of the front door being thrown open, and a man clomping noisily across the hall of his apartment.

“So the latest news is, KBS is dropping you from _Accidental Time Machine_.”

At his manager’s voice, Kyungsoo stirred from where he’d been lying half-asleep on the couch. There was the sound of a plastic bag being tossed onto the kitchen table, and he sighed and shifted to lie on his back, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“You could’ve just messaged me,” he said, grumbling. “Or better yet, not told me at all.”

“I brought kimbap,” Baekhyun continued, ignoring him. “Get your ass off the couch and eat something.”

“I’m not hungry—”

“ _Get over here._ ”

It took some coaxing, but Kyungsoo obeyed eventually, dragging his feet across the floor. Baekhyun stared at him as he walked over, looking him up and down without attempting to hide it. “You still look like hell,” he noted.

“Thanks for telling me, I had no idea.” Kyungsoo sat down on a bar stool and began unwrapping the takeout.

Around two months ago, for the first time in his career, Kyungsoo had gotten embroiled in a public scandal. News of the incident was splashed across all the tabloids and entertainment sections of major papers. Since then, paparazzi had taken up a permanent residence outside Kyungsoo’s building. He was slowly getting dropped from all his acting and variety show gigs. His name shot up to the top of the real-time searches. He couldn’t leave the house without getting stalked by press or harassed by nosy members of the public.

But still, everything would be manageable, if not for the fact that what they were reporting about him was, well, true. It was that knowledge that affected him most, that had him lost and drowning in a cesspit of negative emotion.

Worse still, since he was effectively house-bound, he had to rely on his annoying manager to deliver his meals. Not that he had much of an appetite, these days.

As he ate, Baekhyun sat down on the bar stool opposite and folded his hands on the table. “I’m concerned about you, Kyungsoo. You haven’t done anything for _weeks_ , apart from sitting in here feeling sorry for yourself.”

“I can’t exactly go prancing down Euljiro.” Neither did he have any desire to go out. These days, it was like energy and motivation had completely abandoned his body.

“You can’t,” Baekhyun agreed. “But there are other ways to do something with yourself. You need a break.”

“You mean like… a holiday?” Kyungsoo rolled his eyes. “Baekhyun, I’m one of the top actors in the country. If I go overseas, people will recognise me, and the press will follow.”

Baekhyun nodded. “Hmm, yeah. Have you heard of the Hotel Hiatus?”

“The what?”

“It’s a private hotel in the forests of Northern California. You can’t stay there unless you’re invited, but lucky for you, I happen to know the owner,” Baekhyun said. “Ten days. No Internet, no press, no public. It’ll be a good break for you.”

Kyungsoo’s eyebrows pulled together. “NorCal? You know I don’t go there.”

“It’s in the middle of the forest, Kyungsoo.”

“In the forest? What am I supposed to do there?”

Baekhyun shrugged. “Go hiking. Get some fresh air. Anything would be better than sitting on your ass all day.”

“I don’t hike.” Kyungsoo sighed. “Also, nothing you say is going to make me go back to Cali. You know how much I hate it there.”

“You’re going back to Cali. You need the break.”

“Keep dreaming. I’m not going, Baekhyun.”

 

☾

 

The next morning, Kyungsoo found himself on a ten-hour flight across the Pacific, and then he was back in San Francisco. His hometown. He hadn’t been back in ten years.

He caught a bus north from the airport, hours rolling past wineries and state parks. As the bus cruised along, he stared out of the window, unable to shake the feeling of nervousness that had settled around him from the moment the plane touched down.

But the bus arrived in Sonoma without incident, and Kyungsoo alighted at the station as Baekhyun had instructed. They were at the edge of a thick forest, presumably one of the many parks in the region. Following the edge of the road, he headed north, until he finally saw the sign, attached to a metal post — “Collection Point: Hotel Hiatus”. There was a bench next to it, and several crates stacked up in a tower. Kyungsoo sat down uncertainly, starting to mentally formulate a backup plan in case nobody showed up.

Several minutes later, a golf cart emerged from the vegetation through a narrow trail. The driver introduced himself as Jongin, and he helped Kyungsoo pile his luggage into the back before doing a U-turn and heading straight back into the forest.

Kyungsoo’s apprehension grew steadily as the cart drove deeper and deeper into the woods. Fifteen minutes later, thick foliage finally gave way to a clearing, and Jongin pulled the cart to a halt as it crunched over a bed of dried leaves and bramble. Kyungsoo climbed out and took in the scene, getting his first impression of the place where he’d be spending the next ten days. The “hotel” appeared to be a single wooden cabin, dwarfed by the titanic trees that surrounded it. Climbing roses wound around the balcony rails, and plant-boxes bloomed on the windowsills. The front door was shut, but a sign was hanging from the entryway, reading _WELCOME, NEWLY DISGRACED!_

“Here we are,” Jongin said. “Home sweet home.”

He grabbed Kyungsoo’s luggage and marched towards the front door, easily lifting one case with each arm. Kyungsoo followed closely behind, his Gucci fur slides sinking into the ground with every step.

The door swung open with a soft chime. “Jongdae!” Jongin yelled, setting down the luggage and turning to head back for the crates. “Guest checking in!”

“Coming right over!” somebody sing-songed, and a man danced into the foyer. He was short, around Kyungsoo’s height, and thin, with a spacey expression on his face. “Good afternoon, lovely guest. Are you… Do Kyungsoo?” Like Jongin, he spoke with a clear American accent.

“Yes,” Kyungsoo said.

“Splendid.” He glanced at the clipboard on the table. Kyungsoo peeked at it. It was a mostly blank sheet of paper, with a single name printed across the top — his.

“Am I the only guest at this hotel?”

“Oh don’t worry, we’ve got a couple of others.” Jongdae shoved the clipboard into a drawer and turned away. “Come on, I’ll show you to your room.”

They walked out of the back door, and Kyungsoo jolted with shock. They were standing out in the open, on a suspended rope bridge. The main office had seemed to be built on solid ground, but behind it the ground dropped off into a vast canyon, and redwoods rose from all around, piercing the sky. In the forest ahead, ten treehouses were built into the redwoods, emerging from bark just under the canopy, all interconnected by a network of rope-and-slat bridges that hung at least a hundred feet off the ground.

“Holy fuck,” Kyungsoo mumbled, dazed.

“It’s quite a sight, isn’t it?” Jongdae marched forwards, and the entire bridge swayed and trembled. Kyungsoo trembled along with it as he inched forwards.

“Uh, how old is this thing?”

“I believe the hotel was built in the 1980s. But don’t worry, we haven’t had any accidents for many years.” Jongdae glanced around. “Why, are you scared of heights?”

Kyungsoo didn’t answer. He wasn’t, not usually, but he definitely didn’t trust this sketchy hotel. “So, what facilities do you guys have?”

“Facilities?” Jongdae looked surprised by the question. “We’ve got a restaurant. And of course, there’s hot water and electricity and everything. Ensuite bathrooms.”

Kyungsoo’s brow knotted. “Any pool? Library? Billiard room?”

Jongdae shook his head.

“Wireless?” Kyungsoo asked, dread mounting with every second.

“We don’t even get satellite reception here, most of the time. But we have a TV and some VHS tapes, if you’re interested.”

“Baekhyun,” Kyungsoo muttered faintly. They’d reached the first of the redwoods, and the bridge wound around the circumference of its trunk with paths diverging off like roads from a roundabout.

“Excuse me?” Jongdae threw him a sideways glance. “Anyway, the dining hall is above the main office. We serve breakfast at eight, lunch at one-thirty, and dinner at seven-thirty. You can come to the office if you want to watch some tapes, or if you want to make a call from our landline.”

Kyungsoo nodded, and Jongdae came to a halt in front of one of the treehouses, where his luggages were somehow already waiting at the doorstep. The exterior was mostly wood, but the windows were glass, and inside the room actually looked pretty clean and comfortable.

“So, welcome to the Hotel Hiatus!” Jongdae clapped once. “We hope you enjoy your stay.”

 

 

On the strike of seven-thirty, Kyungsoo made his way over to the dining hall. There were three guests already in the room, all men from the look of it, seated at a long wooden table with Jongdae.

The guy at the end moved up slightly to make room for Kyungsoo as he approached. “Hey, did you just get here?”

Kyungsoo extended a hand. “Yeah, a couple hours ago. I’m Kyungsoo, by the way.”

“Lu Han. I checked in two days ago.” The guy took his hand, turning to face him, and Kyungsoo had to make a conscious effort to keep his jaw hinged. The guy was the prettiest, most ethereal-looking person he had ever seen. His chestnut-hair was spiked into a perfect disarray, framing a face that couldn’t belong to a human.

The next guest was a tall man with a slightly angry-looking face (probably because of the brows), who introduced himself as Kris. Something about him was familiar, but if they’d met before, Kyungsoo couldn’t remember.

The last guest was seated opposite Jongdae. He smiled warmly and his eyes crinkled as he shook Kyungsoo’s hand. “Call me Junmyeon. I’ve been here for a couple days, but I’m basically Jongdae’s assistant. It’s just the four of us, and one more — Chanyeol — here at the moment.”

“Right, where _is_ he?”

“Waiting for me?” A deep voice interrupted, coming from near the door. Kyungsoo glanced over his shoulder. A man was standing in the doorway, the top of his head almost brushing the doorframe. He crossed the room in several long strides, and pulled up to sit opposite Kyungsoo. “Hey,” he said, with a blinding smile. “I'm Park Chanyeol. You’re the new guy — Do Kyungsoo?”

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo said, slightly taken aback that the other guests had been… expecting him?

“Don’t weird him out, Chanyeol,” Junmyeon said. “Sorry about that, we don’t get a whole lot of people here, so we like to keep track of the arrivals we’re expecting.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’m fine.” Kyungsoo forced a laugh. “So uh, is this hotel some kind of halfway house for disgraced celebrities? That’s a pretty niche market,” he said. “Sorry, I’m kinda clueless. My manager was the one who booked me in.”

“I guess we are a halfway house, of a sort.” Jongdae smiled widely, leaning forwards. “But not just for disgraced people. That sign was the previous manager’s idea of a joke. Sometimes people just need a break, you know?”

“People like us,” Chanyeol volunteered. “Junmyeon and I have stayed here before. It’s a great place to get away for a while.”

“We do get plenty of disgraced celebrities, though,” Junmyeon added. “Like you guys.”

“I came here because of personal problems,” Lu Han admitted. “Stress overload, I think. My manager thought I was having a nervous breakdown, so he forced me here. Same as you, I think.” He looked at Kyungsoo.

A nervous breakdown? _Baekhyun_ , Kyungsoo thought furiously. If this was his idea of _helping_ , sending him to a Hotel in California for the mentally unwell…

He _wasn’t_ crazy. He just needed a break, like they said. “Yeah,” Kyungsoo agreed. “It’s stress for me, as well.”

“It was trouble with paps for me,” Kris threw in. “They were stalking me, twenty-four hours a day.”

Kyungsoo was hit by a flash of recognition. “Oh, you’re an actor, aren’t you?” he asked. At Kris’ affirmative response, he continued. “I thought I’d seen your face before. You’re Kris Wu, right? You were in that movie with the cars.”

“Right on. And you’re an actor too — I’ve seen some of your movies.”

Kyungsoo wondered what Kris had done to get in trouble with the press, but didn’t care enough to press the issue. In any case, it didn’t seem like an appropriate question to ask someone who was here to escape from it.

The back door opened, and the scent of food wafted into the room. One of the hotel staff, a tall boy with sharp features and catlike eyes, wheeled out their food on a cart. It looked nice — lean-cut barbecue, mashed potatoes and roast vegetables drizzled over with pepper sauce.

“We have kitchens back there,” Jongdae said, as he handed out plates. “You’re welcome to help out if you want.”

“Are you _trying_ to scare the guy away?” Junmyeon asked.

“It’s alright, some of us like to cook,” Chanyeol said, grinning. “You cook much, Kyungsoo?”

Kyungsoo shook his head, then quickly clarified himself. “I like cooking, but haven’t had the time to for a while.”

“Big shot actor that you are,” Jongdae threw in. “I’m sure you’re very busy.”

“I’ve had a lot on my plate,” Kyungsoo admitted.

“That’s alright,” Jongdae said. “We’re not forcing you to do anything. Rest and relax. Go ahead, start eating.”

Kyungsoo sliced his barbecue and speared a piece. It was good; flavourful and smoky and comforting. It brought to mind a home he’d long forgotten, years and years ago, when he was still a young boy.

The dining hall gradually filled with the homely sounds of clinking metal cutlery, and the low chatter of the hotel guests. Kyungsoo made polite conversation with the others, trying to be friendly. He learned that Lu Han was a professional football player — and a pretty high-profile one, playing for a famous English club. He was meant to be competing in the Champions’ League, he explained, in continental Europe, but his issues with stress had forced him to take a hiatus.

Chanyeol was in a band, a relatively new but fast-rising act, according to Junmyeon. He’d decided to stay at the hotel himself, to take a quick break before they started recording their next album. “We aren’t that famous, not by international standards,” he said. “So it wasn’t quite a paparazzi problem for me.”

He seemed nice enough, if a little hard to read. So did Lu Han and the others — at the very least, none of them seemed off their rockers, which thankfully ruled out the possibility of Baekhyun having tricked him into staying at a mental facility. The degree of familiarity they all had with each other was a little surprising, but Kyungsoo guessed it came with the territory of being a “by invitation only” type of residence.

The guests all spoke English fluently, and with American accents, Kyungsoo noticed. To be expected for Jongdae, Junmyeon and Chanyeol, who presumably lived in the States, but Lu Han and Kris definitely weren’t based in America.

Over dessert, he asked Kris which part of China he was from. “I actually grew up in Vancouver,” Kris said. “I moved to Guangzhou in my late teens.”

“And I’m from NJ,” Lu Han added. “But I went over to Beijing when I was really young, six or seven? My dad taught me English. What about you?”

“I grew up here in the Bay, actually. I guess that means we’re all born on this continent, that’s cool.” And coincidental, he thought.

He hadn’t been back to the States since leaving it behind him, ten years ago. He had been fourteen then. If he was honest, there were some things about home that he still missed. Temperate, sun-soaked afternoons. A corona of sparkling aqua and lavender sea. The dark forests climbing the hills, which were so easy to get lost in. The narrow, sloping streets, local music and the unmistakeable scent of weed drifting out of hole-in-the-wall bars and lounges as the evening settled in. Walking outdoors on clear nights, when he could see the moon and stars standing stark against their navy backdrop.

And there were other things he missed less, like the loneliness. A loneliness began to descend once again, that night, once all the guests had finished dinner and retired for the night. He was home, but far out in the forest, away from the city he’d known. And even back then, he’d been lonely, and scared, and confused. And helpless.

Kyungsoo rose from his seat, rolling the window up slightly to let in some breeze. The windows, along with most of the furniture in the room, seemed to be constructed from the same rust-coloured wood as the trees standing outside. As misplaced as he felt, the hotel seemed to actively resist it with its rustic charm and warm, welcoming ambience. He wondered briefly how they’d managed to get running water and electricity in the toilets, seeing as there wasn’t a visible sewage system or wires outside.

He unpacked his suitcase, took a hot shower and changed into his silk pyjamas. Then he curled up in bed and drifted off into a fitful sleep.

 

 

In Kyungsoo’s dream, he was back in the Bay Area. He was standing on the edge of the Eastern waterfront, and the horizon was overtaken by a thick, curling mist.

The harbour was deserted, and a strange chill lingered in the air — definitely too cold for San Francisco, and Kyungsoo could tell that it was summertime. He turned and headed down the Embarcadero, breaking into a jog, fear slowly taking over his furiously hammering heart. Goosebumps rose on his skin. He didn’t know what he was running from, but he knew that something horrible was about to happen.

Then the ground started to shake. Something was approaching from behind him. Something large, powerful, and very hungry. Something that he wouldn’t be able to outrun. He didn’t dare to look back, for he was sure he would instantly freeze at the sight.

 _Run while you can_ , a voice whispered through the air, its raspy sound carried by the wind. _When we claim the city, all of you will be made slaves. Anyone who resists will be destroyed. Run away, or we will take you next._

Behind him, the earth groaned, and the sounds of an encroaching army filled the valley, heavy breathing, angry yelling and a thousand ghastly footfalls moving forwards on a march of death.

 

☾

 

Kyungsoo spent the first few days mostly holed up in his room watching movies, which he’d fortunately had the foresight to download before leaving civilisation. He walked by the lounge from time to time, just to stretch his legs, but didn’t yet have the inclination to venture out to the parks.

In the mornings, he would often catch Kris, Junmyeon and Jongdae hanging out together, sprawled out across sofas and beanbags, chatting and laughing like the old friends they probably were. They would usually vacate the room by mid-morning, taking extensive hikes around the surrounding forest and valleys.

Sometimes he would come across a member of the staff — Jongin, Zitao, Sehun, and a few others — sweeping out the room. Jongdae explained that “the kids” rotated jobs including maintenance, cleaning, security, cooking, and errands like picking up goods or guests from the collection point. Jongdae himself didn’t seem to do much at all. He claimed he was in charge of “managing guests” — though seeing as there weren’t really that many, that probably didn’t entail much. Junmyeon, apparently, was ex-staff, and seemed to be staying at the Hotel mainly to hang out with Jongdae and Kris.

In the afternoons, he would sometimes spot Chanyeol in the lounge, sitting with his guitar or at the old piano, testing out melodies and scribbling in a notebook. His music would drift out from the cabin and across the chasm, reaching Kyungsoo’s ears even as he sat in his room reading with the windows open.

Several times, Kyungsoo thought of approaching him, to strike up a conversation. He felt a strong pull towards the man — he looked like the kind of boy Kyungsoo would have admired from afar, from across the floor of his favourite cafe or a university cafeteria. When the sun was setting in the evenings, its rays would stream in through the cabin windows, bathing the room in its hazy golden glow, dusting every surface with sunlight. The light seemed to cling to his hair, settle beneath his skin, giving him an almost dreamlike quality. It was an image that inexplicably fixed itself into Kyungsoo’s mind: of Chanyeol sitting in the light, his brow furrowed in concentration, dexterous fingers dancing across the strings.

But approaching strangers wasn’t really in Kyungsoo’s nature; he was used to being the person others approached. People like Chanyeol, handsome strangers with overflowing smiles and brimming energy, weren’t usually Kyungsoo’s crowd. And for some reason, Chanyeol seemed to be keeping a distance — whether because he didn’t like Kyungsoo, or thought he looked unstable, he couldn’t be sure.

And so the days crept by, melting into one another, a soft lull in time. The quiet had a calming effect on Kyungsoo, fading out his fears like sun bleaching colour, ironing out his worry lines. Since arriving in the country, he hadn’t experienced any of the _episodes_ he’d been so fearful of, which made him hope: could recovery be that easy? Just rest and relaxation? Maybe Baekhyun knew what he was doing after all.

One evening the guests (and Jongdae) watched a tape together in the lounge, on the ancient VHS machine. The movie they picked was _Roman Holiday_. It was secretly one of Kyungsoo’s favourite movies, but everyone else seemed to find it hysterical.

For the most part, he was sleeping better. The nightmares still came, but didn’t keep him up as much. In the middle of the night, Kyungsoo sometimes thought he heard wild animals in the forest, roaring and screeching as though fighting each other to the death. He asked Jongdae about it one evening at dinner.

“It’s just the animals that live in the forest, don’t worry, they can’t get into the rooms,” was his answer. “The hotel is perfectly safe.”

Kyungsoo hoped he was right.

 

☾

 

After six days of languishing indoors, restlessness finally drove Kyungsoo to venture beyond the hotel premises. Jongdae briefly explained the route to him, and it sounded simple enough — turn right outside the hotel, go around the edge, and loop around the canyon which housed their rooms.

“It’s a fairly easy trail, just about all the hotel guests have done it,” Jongdae confirmed. “You’ll be fine.”

“Are there any animals I should be worried about?” Kyungsoo asked, just in case.

“Bears, mostly. We get a lion or two. Sometimes deer or coyotes. Just keep an eye out, they won’t bother you if you leave them alone.”

That didn’t exactly reassure him, but Kyungsoo was certain he’d go crazy if he spent another day cooped up in his room. He quickly marked the trail out on a map, pulled on his trainers, and headed out into the woods.

As Jongdae had described, the path was fairly obvious, a trail cut neatly through the shrubbery and well-worn by previous guests. Kyungsoo followed the path, keeping the canyon within sight through the trees. The forest grew denser as he progressed deeper, vernal grass, gangly roots and wild oats growing untamed in wild clumps, filling the gaps between stray lumber. Except for the occasional raccoon or fox, the park seemed deserted, which Kyungsoo appreciated. He walked for hours, letting the woodsy perfumed air flow in and out of his lungs, watching the shifting rays of sun and dust motes dancing in the air. Halfway around the trail he stopped to sit on a fallen log and have lunch, which he’d packed from the hotel.

Immersed in the sounds of the forest and the whisper of leaves, Kyungsoo felt incredibly at peace. There was something cathartic about being alone with the juxtaposition of stillness and movement, life and emptiness. It was a feeling of contentment — of being at home, something that he’d realised he’d been missing for many, many years.

Some hours later, when the sun was sinking slowly between the hills, Kyungsoo caught the sound of running water, teasing him from beyond the next turn. There had to be a creek somewhere just downhill, presumably leading to a lake. In a split second, he made his decision and turned to deviate from the path.

He found the creek quite easily, and followed it for a while, stumbling downhill as he waded through the undergrowth. The forest seemed to be getting thicker as he moved, shorter trees and low-hanging vines obstructing his field of vision. Before long, the stream began to thin, and then it tapered down to a thin sheet of water glossing a mound of rocks, disappearing into groundwater.

At the end of the stream were two redwoods growing close together, their lowest branches crossing between them forming an archway. Kyungsoo wasn’t sure if he was hallucinating, but there was something strange about the space between the trees — it was hard to look at, as though there was something reflective in that column of air. The trees seemed to overlap each other as he relaxed his gaze, blending into a single trunk, but as he squinted, the corridor shimmered back into existence.

Kyungsoo’s heart sank as he held out a hand experimentally, and met with solid bark. The trees were fused into one.

 _It’s astigmatism that’s giving me double vision_ , Kyungsoo told himself, even as he took a step back and concentrated. Again, he extended his arm, and this time his hand passed cleanly through the gap between the trees. The archway was back in view, and a corridor stretched out before him, several feet wide, littered with more roots, lumber and wild grass. A trail was visible on the ground, weeds flattened and leaves crushed into a carpet by the feet of previous hikers.

He should have been freaked out, but felt strangely calm as he passed under the arch, down the corridor that hadn’t been there a few seconds ago. Maybe it was the day spent in the forest; his mind felt purged, swathed in a warm blanket of meditative tranquility. The corridor bent as it reached the foot of the slope, and a few yards ahead, the trees parted into a clearing.

Just ahead, in the centre of the clearing, were the remains of a stone house. The foundations still stood strong, but the house was unroofed, the windows marked out by gaps in brickwork. As Kyungsoo stood there admiring the house from a distance, a sound ripped abruptly through the air — the unmistakeable sound of howling wolves.

A chill ran down Kyungsoo’s spine, and his heart stumbled, missing a beat. _Danger_ , the house seemed to scream. _There’s more than wild wolves waiting for you in here._

“What are you doing here?”

Kyungsoo almost leapt out of his skin. Next to him, Chanyeol walked forwards, emerging from the shadowy wood as though he’d just solidified into existence. He was dressed in hiking gear, a black “SF Giants” cap pressed down over wavy brown hair.

“I— followed the creek,” Kyungsoo stammered, taken aback. He would never have imagined someone so conspicuous and boisterous to be capable of such stealth.

“Did you?” Chanyeol was still unsmiling, which didn’t suit him. His eyebrows pulled together as he scanned the clearing, sharp eyes darting around. “Well, we should turn back. This is Jack London’s state park — they get a ton of tourists, someone might recognise you.”

“I was heading back,” Kyungsoo said, “but I’m not sure I remember the way.”

A faint smile crept up onto Chanyeol’s lips. “Lucky you’ve got me, then.” He patted Kyungsoo on the shoulder. “C’mon, let’s go. It’s getting dark.”

 

 

Night was falling as they walked back through the woods. Kyungsoo had never been afraid of the night — on the contrary, it often brought him comfort — but Chanyeol seemed to be in a hurry. He navigated with ease, as though he’d walked the route a hundred times. Kyungsoo struggled to keep up with his strides, and Chanyeol only began to slow down once they were a good distance from the stone house.

“So,” Chanyeol began, breaking the silence. “You finally decided to get away from the hotel.” There was a definite note of mirth in his tone.

“You too,” Kyungsoo pointed out. “I don’t think I’ve seen you outside the lounge, since I arrived.”

“Yeah, well… figured I needed to stretch my legs.” He kept his gaze trained ahead. “And how are you? Feeling better after a few days of rest?”

“Mmm. Surprisingly, yeah. My manager was right after all.”

“Your manager made you come here?” Chanyeol smiled slightly, as though he had some kind of secret.

“I wouldn’t have come otherwise,” Kyungsoo admitted. “I wasn’t in a very healthy place.” He wasn’t sure why he was volunteering all this information, but something about the other man’s tense manner, and his forcibly casual conversation, made Kyungsoo want to loosen him up.

Chanyeol forged on ahead. Kyungsoo climbed up after him, stepping over fallen branches and avoiding crevices until they reached the top of the hill and the canyon came back into view, treehouses glowing like cocoons of amber light beneath the forest canopy.

They parted on the suspension bridge. Chanyeol disappeared down the left fork, heading back towards his room with a quick “see you at dinner”. Abandoning his soiled trainers by the door, Kyungsoo stepped back into his room to get himself cleaned up for the evening.

 

 

When he was freshly showered and changed, Kyungsoo glanced at the clock on his desk to find that there was still an hour left to dinner. He recalled Jongdae on the first day, telling him he could step in anytime to help out in the kitchen. On impulse, he got up and walked over to the main wing, passing through the still-deserted dining hall to get to the kitchens.

To his surprise, Chanyeol was there, standing over a kitchen island and brandishing a chopper.

“Have you been cooking every night?” Kyungsoo asked, surprised. He’d never noticed.

“Just about.” Chanyeol feinted a knife throw as Kyungsoo approached, and he ducked reflexively, an involuntary grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. “How’s the food been?”

“Not bad,” Kyungsoo said honestly. “I’m impressed.”

“I remember you saying you liked cooking. Wanna join me?” Chanyeol was dicing red peppers, bracing the edge of the knife against his fingertips.

Kyungsoo rested his palms on the kitchen island next to him. “What’s on the menu for tonight?”

“Thought I’d make arrabbiata.” He jerked his chin in the direction of the back door. “Zitao and Sehun are out there grilling pumpkin and veg.”

“Italian food, huh?” Now that Kyungsoo thought back on their meals, they had been eating an awful lot of pasta, Italian soups, even risotto on occasion.

“My mum owns an Italian restaurant. I used to help out in the kitchen.”

Cute. “Was your dad in the restaurant business, too?”

Chanyeol’s eyes stayed trained on the peppers. “My dad wasn’t around, when I was growing up.”  
Oh. Kyungsoo hesitated, uncertain of how to react. “Uh, it was the same for me. I know how it feels.”

“Hmm. Would you pass the olives?”

Kyungsoo passed him the bowl. Their fingers brushed.

“You’ll have to tell me what to do,” Kyungsoo said, looking down at the ingredients laid out across the table. “I’ve never made arrabbiata.”

Chanyeol nodded. “I’ll take care of preparing the ingredients, maybe you could start assembling the sauce? On the stove, over there.”

They worked quietly for a while, the kitchen silent except the sounds of the boiling pasta and Chanyeol’s knife thudding against the slicing board.

Once the sauce was simmering in its saucepan, Chanyeol started washing up at the sinks. “So, tell me a bit about yourself, Kyungsoo. How did you end up becoming an actor?”

People always asked him the same question, expecting something interesting. “Honestly, there’s nothing exciting. I chose the acting path quite early on. Took lessons, applied to agencies, went to auditions, and one day I got lucky.”

“You said you grew up here, in the States.”

“Yeah. I lived here for fourteen years. And you, have you always been here?”

“All my life,” Chanyeol confirmed.

“I only started getting roles when I was back in Korea, though. Race issues, I guess.”

“It worked out for the best, then,” Chanyeol said. “Is that why you moved?”

Kyungsoo shook his head. He didn’t usually like to bring up his family, but it was shockingly easy to talk to Chanyeol. “My dad wasn’t very stable. He drank heavily, had mood swings, couldn’t hold a job.” _Sometimes I think I inherited the crazy gene from him._ “He passed away, and I was sent to Korea to live with my aunt.”

“I’m sorry,” Chanyeol said. “It must be tough, coming back here.”

“This is my first time, since I left.”

Chanyeol was quiet for a beat. “Is it as bad as you imagined?”

“Honestly, no. It was a long time ago. And this hotel is very… isolated.”

“It’s a good place for a break.”

Kyungsoo nodded. “It’s nice,” he said, suddenly. “Cooking here. I used to really like cooking, but I hadn’t done it in so long.”

“I’m surprised, Kyungsoo. I’d never have pegged you as someone who’d like cooking when we first met. You looked so… fancy.”

“I wanted to live simply, once upon a time. But I got caught up in all of this.”

“The megastar life must be tough.”

“You have no idea,” Kyungsoo said, then stumbled to correct himself. “I mean, of course — you might have an idea, you’re a singer.”

“It’s alright, Kyungsoo. We aren’t superstars. Scandals, is that what it is?”

“I was… going through a tough time.” Just thinking about it made Kyungsoo want to clam up. He could see the headlines again in his mind’s eye, calling him mad, dubbing him the industry’s “latest disturbed starlet”. The same thought that had been haunting him sprung to mind. _Am I going crazy?_ “Sorry, I’d rather not discuss the details. But it’s more of a personal thing, rather than the press, really.”

“That’s perfectly fine. I didn’t mean to overstep, honest.”

“So, about your band,” Kyungsoo started hastily, desperate to change the topic. “What kind of music do you play?”

“We’re kind of… indie pop.” He started describing his band’s sound, dropping a multitude of musical terms that Kyungsoo barely understood. It was clear that he was extremely passionate about it, and Kyungsoo found himself listening attentively to his voice.

He thought they must look a strange pair, standing side by side. Kyungsoo, with his well-groomed hair and fancy clothes, and Chanyeol, in his hoodie and tattered jeans, whipping up a meal together in the hotel in the middle of the forest.

The timer went off, and Kyungsoo uncovered the pot, steam from the pasta rising into his eyes, momentarily blinding him. Chanyeol’s arms reached out over him, picking up the pot in one easy movement and bringing it over the sink to drain. Starchy water flooded the sink, sending up a cloud of steam. Kyungsoo watched as Chanyeol emptied the contents of the strainer into the pan, and mixed it in with a wooden spatula.

“Dinner’s ready to serve,” he said, turning to Kyungsoo with his usual infectious enthusiasm, bringing an involuntary smile to Kyungsoo’s face.

They served the food together, sitting around the wooden bench and portioning pasta onto individual plates. It was nice, eating food he’d made — and sharing that food with other people who wanted nothing from him, whose company he could enjoy simply and wholeheartedly. He hadn’t the chance in a long while.

For the first time in months, Kyungsoo slept soundly through the night. He awoke with a start in the morning, surprised that it was already light, first beams of sun trickling in through the window pane.

 

☾

 

Over a breakfast of steaming coffee and pancakes, Jongdae invited everyone along on a hike to a nearby lake. They planned to spend the day rowing and fishing, just hanging out by the water.

“Kris and Junmyeon will co-chaperone,” he said. “You guys coming?”

“I’ll come,” Lu Han said. “Sounds fun.”

Chanyeol raised his hand. “I’m in.”

“Me too,” Kyungsoo blurted out.

“Great,” Jongdae clapped. “We leave in half an hour. Go get ready, and grab a change of clothes too, you’re probably going to get wet. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

 

 

Hiking in a group was a very different experience from the solitary trek Kyungsoo had taken the previous day. Jongdae knew the woods like the back of his hand, and he easily marched them through a series of unmarked trails, not so much as hesitating at any of the turns. He explained that he’d been managing the hotel for two years, and had thoroughly explored most of the surrounding area.

Again, the woods seemed completely deserted apart from their group, which struck Kyungsoo as peculiar. “How don’t people find this hotel?” he asked Jongdae. “I thought the redwood parks of California are a pretty popular camping spot. Isn’t Jack London’s state park nearby?”

Lu Han turned around, interested in the answer. Jongdae wouldn’t meet his eyes. “It’s popular, yeah, but people just come to see the _sequoia sempervirens_ ,” he said. “As long we stay away from the valley of giants, we won’t meet them. They won’t venture as far in as we are.”

“It’s kind of strange to have the hotel so far in,” Lu Han spoke up. “Why not make it open to the public? I’m sure there’s a sizeable market for people wanting a forest retreat — the current arrangement can hardly be profitable.”

“We’re owned by a private trust,” Jongdae said shortly. “Our aim isn’t to turn profit, we just want to be a safe haven for our guests.” He wouldn’t entertain any further questions on the topic, moving quickly ahead to join Junmyeon and Kris.

The group reached the lake an hour into their hike. It was much larger than Kyungsoo had expected, easily spanning the entire length of the valley. Again, there wasn’t a soul to be seen as they made their way onto the grassy banks, leaving their bags strewn across a thick patch of aerial roots.

At the edge of the lake, a few canoes drifted on the water, tied to a makeshift post. Jongdae was already on the pier, untying the ropes, and Kyungsoo followed, picking his way across the bank. The boats looked old, their paint peeling and metal caked in verdigris, but still seemed sturdy and well cared-for.

“Two to a boat,” Jongdae instructed, pushing the first canoe alongside the bank.

Chanyeol started walking over to the canoe, glancing back over his shoulder at Kyungsoo. “Wanna share a boat?”

“Yeah, sure.” Kyungsoo watched as Chanyeol tried to climb into the boat, and it slid, tilting dangerously from his weight. He flailed, grabbing hold of Kyungsoo to steady himself. “Fuck, I never could get on with these things.”

Behind them, Jongdae and Junmyeon were getting into a boat. “Race you guys to the other end,” Junmyeon called, and they started pulling smoothly out of the harbour.

When Kyungsoo and Chanyeol finally managed to sit down in their canoe and figure out how to hold the oars, Jongdae and Junmyeon were already cruising into the distance, their boat seeming to glide effortlessly across the water surface. Lu Han and Kris had at least managed to get further out into an open expanse of water, but were struggling to orientate their canoe in the right direction. With great effort, Kyungsoo and Chanyeol pushed off from the banks, making their way onto the main body of the lake.

Despite the calm surface, their boat rocked wildly on the water, constantly threatening to overbalance. No matter how hard they rowed, they seemed to move an inch at a time, creating disproportionately large splashes each time their oars hit the water. Water droplets sprayed Kyungsoo’s face, getting into his eyes, and he blinked them away, trying to clear his vision. “We gotta catch them,” Chanyeol panted, rowing harder, burning with competitiveness. It was a hopeless endeavour — Junmyeon and Jongdae were far away, further extending their lead, looking as though they were barely exerting themselves.

“What is wrong with this thing?” Kyungsoo yelled out, driving against the water with renewed vigour even as his muscles screamed out in protest.

Lu Han and Kris weren’t faring much better. Their canoe was spinning in circles, barely a few metres ahead. They attempted to reverse the spinning by alternating their oars, but their canoe remained firmly rooted to the spot.

With a deep breath, Chanyeol pushed all his weight into the stroke, and their boat veered wildly, before sliding. For a moment, Kyungsoo was airborne, and then he landed with a massive splash, and the canoe was falling on top of him.

He emerged from the surface to see Chanyeol treading water alongside him, their canoe floating ten feet away. He looked completely drenched, completely exhausted and utterly defeated.

Then their eyes met, and the ridiculousness of their situation began to sink in. They burst out laughing, and once they started, they couldn’t stop.

They eventually managed to get back into their canoe and made it halfway across the lake, before traversing the rest on foot. His arms ached from the rowing, and his shoes were soaked through, but it didn’t seem to matter much. Afterwards, all that Kyungsoo would recall from that morning was Chanyeol’s smile and his laugh, burning brilliant images into Kyungsoo’s brain.

 

 

In the evening, the group headed to the beach. The sound of wild waves sweeping the shore became audible, rippling through the rustle of leaves, before they could even glimpse water between the trees.

Junmyeon found a spot to make camp along the rock-studded beach, and they scattered to gather wood for a fire. Kyungsoo wandered up and down the shoreline, snagging stray branches that looked dry enough to burn, peering into the tidepools — little basins of clear water, rich with sea stars, spiky urchins and glowing green anemones. He remembered visiting beaches just like this one, when he was growing up. Families and groups of friends would bring their trailers to the shore, turning them into makeshift cabins for a weekend stay. He remembered large groups of teenagers, sitting in clusters, singing obnoxiously and pushing one another into the water. He’d looked upon them in jealousy. They’d been happy, carefree, loved — everything he’d longed to be.

Armed with firewood, they sat in a circle around their makeshift hearth. Kyungsoo perched on a weathered piece of driftwood that seemed to be growing into the earth from how long it had stood there. He faced the horizon, and watched the sun descend, painting sweeps of orange on a pink canvas. Low chatter and good-natured laughter faded into the background, a soundtrack of comfort.

Only Chanyeol was impossible to tune out. He sat on the ground next to Kyungsoo, leaning against his log, and the sunset coloured his brown hair a soft gold. His eyes sparkled like fizzy water as he talked, working to build a teepee with the kindling. There was something transfixing about the way his hands moved. They moved too swiftly and skilfully for hands that looked so unwieldy. Much like Chanyeol himself, Kyungsoo thought, recalling the way he’d materialised so silently in the wood.

Before the sky was dark, their fire was up and crackling. It was mostly salt-soaked driftwood, and the flames that licked at it fluttered orange and violet, like a dance of spectral light. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Kyungsoo wondered if driftwood fires were supposed to be toxic, but there weren’t any noxious fumes filling the air. In fact, he couldn’t even detect the regular smoke of burning wood. It seemed to vanish as it rose from the fire, snatched up by the wind and wrapped into a blanket of perfume, of fresh bouquets and springtime.

Kris and Junmyeon started taking out the drinks they’d brought along, mixing soju with beer in disposable red cups. As they distributed the mixes, Kyungsoo caught snippets of the conversation Lu Han was having with Kris.

“You’re from a single parent family?” Lu Han was asking, clearly surprised. “What — you don’t behave like it, it’s impossible to tell!”

Kris seemed amused by his outburst. “What should a child raised in a single parent family behave like, specifically?”

“I don’t know, you just seem so… I don’t know. I was raised in a single parent household, too.”

Something jolted in Kyungsoo. “Wait… so was I.”

Everyone turned to look at him. In the back of his mind, Kyungsoo saw Jongdae and Junmyeon glance briefly at each other. “No, really, this is getting strange.”

Lu Han pointed from Kyungsoo, to Kris, and then back at himself, like he was trying to connect the dots. “Wait. We’re… all raised by single parents, all born on this continent, and we all emigrated to East Asia? I mean, what are the chances?”

“And… Chanyeol, too.” Kyungsoo looked straight at Chanyeol, who avoided his eyes. He was starting to wonder if he was the victim of some elaborate hidden camera prank. “His mother raised him.”

Lu Han’s brow knotted. “Don’t tell me…” He looked at Jongdae and Junmyeon, daring them to speak.

Jongdae sighed. “We are, actually. I was raised by my dad, and Junmyeon here was raised by his mother. But don’t sweat it, guys. Broken households are a common thing these days, unfortunately.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I wouldn’t lie about something like this,” Jongdae said. His eyes were locked with Lu Han’s in a silent standoff.

There was a pronounced pause. Then finally, Lu Han slumped, looking lost. “I’m sorry. This is ridiculous. Didn’t mean to question your honesty, Jongdae. I just found the situation hard to believe.”

“It’s alright,” Jongdae said, and Kris clapped him on the back, handing him a red cup. “Come on, Lu Han. We’re here to relax.”

“Nothing like shared experience to bring people together,” Junmyeon said, passing out the rest of the cups. Kyungsoo took the one Chanyeol handed to him, watching bubbles rise to the surface of the liquid. “Cheers, guys. To childhood trauma and Freudian excuses.”

“Cheers,” they echoed, raising their cups, and Kyungsoo took a long gulp. Warmth slid down his throat, pooling in his stomach, and the heady rush of alcohol shot straight into his brain. Nothing like _somaek_ to deliver an instant buzz. After a moment of hesitation, he swallowed the rest of his drink, and tapped Junmyeon on the shoulder for more.

“Mind if I sit?” Chanyeol shifted up to share his log, and Kyungsoo shook his head, reaching out to claim his refilled cup from Junmyeon’s hands.

Around the climbing campfire, their circle sat warm, shadows rippling across half-lit faces. The strange, shifting colours of the lowlight, the overpowering crash of waves and anti-inhibitory effects of the alcohol created a curious ambience, simultaneously liberating and isolating. Aside from the sheer remoteness and solitude, Kyungsoo felt like he was sitting on the precipice of something important.

He listened, half-distracted by the flickering fire, as Lu Han spilled stories about his time with the football club, his slow rise from a trainee to a superstar, the fame, the money, glamour, hangers-on, and loneliness that came with it. He was doing what he loved, but sometimes it was so easy to get carried away and lose sight of why he’d signed up for this life. He felt relieved to be away for a while, he said, slowly trailing off as they arrived at the topic of his recent stint in Europe. Kyungsoo found that he could relate to many parts of his story. They were in different industries, different countries, but fame — the perks, and ensuing struggles — were universal.

“What about you, Kyungsoo?” Chanyeol asked, casually leaning into his shoulder. “How’d you get into acting?”

Everyone was looking at him. “I was never the academic sort, but I loved movies,” he said, shrugging. “So I took classes. And they said I had a talent for it, for making other people see me the way I wanted them to.”

“I’ll bet you do.” Chanyeol grinned, and Kyungsoo didn’t know how to respond.

Chanyeol was an incredibly touchy person, Kyungsoo was quickly learning. He draped himself over Kyungsoo like it was no big deal, one arm loosely wrapping around him, a hand hanging over his shoulder. Hesitantly, Kyungsoo reached up to clasp his hand, holding it against his chest. It was large and rough and warm. The weight of Chanyeol’s arm on his shoulders was reassuring, anchoring him to the ground.

Jongdae kept mixing drinks, though he wasn’t having much himself. Chanyeol drank continuously, seeming to never get tipsy. Kyungsoo’s head was starting to cloud, but he kept accepting more, liking the way it loosened his long-drawn out nerves.

As he sipped, Chanyeol talked, telling him about his summer with the band. They’d spent the season touring music festivals, and Chanyeol was a good storyteller — his words conjured vivid images in Kyungsoo’s mind, of sultry summer evenings, trailers parked around meadows, a sea of people and crowdsurfers, frosty synth and scorching bass lighting up the night. Words that filled Kyungsoo with acute, inexplicable longing.

“I’d love to watch you play, someday,” he heard himself say. Immediately, he felt uncomfortably forward.

Fortunately, Chanyeol didn’t seem to think so. “You must,” he said. “I’ll bring you to a show — it’s a promise.”

“A promise.”

“You can hold me to it.” Chanyeol glanced at his watch, and then clapped loudly to get the others’ attention. “It’s getting late. Guys, shall we do some songs?”

Kyungsoo held back a laugh. “What is this, a college MT?”

“Let’s do it,” Jongdae hollered, and Junmyeon ducked, laughing helplessly.

Chanyeol led the singalong, a dissonant chorus of loud, drunken voices yelling out a bunch of corny campfire songs. Kyungsoo didn’t think he’d ever laughed so hard. After that, Jongdae cracked open another bottle of soju, and Kris started matching Chanyeol, shot-for-shot. Several bottles later, impressively, they still looked somewhat sober. Much more sober than Kyungsoo felt, at any rate.

But then Kris sat up abruptly. “Let me show you guys a trick,” he said, his voice too loud, as he picked up one of the empty beer bottles and prised off the cap with a pop.

“No,” Jongdae groaned. “No, Kris, we’ve all seen this a million times.”  
Ignoring him, Kris picked up another bottle and knocked its bottom to the open mouth. Instantly, the drink began to bubble, foam building in the neck till it overspilled, trickling down the sides of the bottle and dripping into his lap. “Check this out!”

“Alright, I think it’s time to go.” Jongdae stood, slightly unsteady. “Junmyeon? You okay?”

Kyungsoo was lying down on the rocks, head propped up against the log he’d been sitting on. Across the fire, Chanyeol and Lu Han were still seated, deep in discussion. He wasn’t sure what they were talking about — the ringing in his ears had gotten too loud.

Next to him, Jongdae was standing over Kris’ slumped form. “Can you walk?” he asked, or pleaded.

Kyungsoo’s memory was hazy after that, but he vaguely recalled someone scooping him up into his arms and carrying him bridal-style as they moved through the woods. Thinking back, he was pretty sure it was Chanyeol’s cologne-scented sweatshirt his face was buried in. Those arms carried him all the way back to his hotel room, where they gently lowered him onto the bed and tucked him under the covers.

Lying in warm comfort, finally, thankfully, Kyungsoo let go of his last shred of consciousness and passed out for the night.

 

☾

 

The next day, everyone seemed to be feeling much happier, much closer. After the hike and campfire, it was as though they’d finally breached an invisible boundary. They could finally relax fully around each other, sit together as a group of friends.

Kyungsoo stayed in bed past noon, until the effects of his hangover had worn off. In the afternoon they all hung out in the lounge, playing cards and a few board games Jongdae retrieved from under the coffee table.

Like the rest of the hotel, the space had lots of eclectic personality. The wooden desk was covered in an odd collection of gadgets: large hand-drawn maps, compasses and navigation equipment, stacks of old books. Assorted stuffed animals spilled out from an antique chest, stashed alongside the VHS collection. A gold brazier stood in a corner, its legs painted with intricate murals of gardens and parties. For the first time, Kyungsoo thought of the place as _homely_. The hotel was a cocoon of safety, their gathering intimate; strangely familial for a group of people who had only known each other several days. They felt like brothers.

In the evening, they decided to go out to the ridge to catch the sunset. The view is unmatched, Jongdae promised. He led the group back out through the forest, in the opposite direction this time, westward to the hills where Kyungsoo had first wandered off the path a few days back.

Chanyeol walked ahead with Kris and Junmyeon, Kyungsoo trailing behind alongside Lu Han and Jongdae. After a few days in the wood, he felt like he was getting better at navigating the wilderness. He felt more hyper-aware of his surroundings, less like he was going to trip and fall over any second.

“Have you guys seen any wild animals out here, in the last couple of days?” Kyungsoo asked. The fear had been lurking in the back of his mind ever since Jongdae had first mentioned bears and lions.

“No,” Lu Han said. “We’ve been pretty lucky. Maybe they don’t like this part of the forest.”

At that precise moment, a low growl rumbled through the trees, its vibrations sending the leaves trembling on their stalks.

Everyone froze mid-step. The growl ripped through the air again, growing louder. Something was approaching, and fast. Before Kyungsoo could turn or react, he saw something shimmering between the trees — a large, hulking form, stalking forwards with its hackles raised.

“It’s a lion,” Kyungsoo realised. Next to him, Jongdae and Lu Han were slowly backing away, but Kyungsoo stared, trying to make it out. There was something strange about the lion, the way it moved, the sharpness of its eyes, the shiny metallic quality of its skin…

He blinked, trying to re-focus. Reality was slipping away from him again.  
“Not just any lion.” It was Chanyeol’s voice, breaking his trance. “Kyungsoo, Lu Han, _RUN_!”

The lion let out a deafening roar, the sound unnaturally amplified. _Fuck_. Someone grabbed his shoulder, pushing him violently — it was Jongdae — and then Kyungsoo was stumbling over branches, reaching out to steady himself as he broke into a desperate run. Ahead of him, Lu Han was tearing through the forest, and Jongdae was right behind. _Where were the others?_

Panic seized his brain in a chokehold. Kyungsoo glanced back over his shoulder and caught a blur of gold as the lion leapt through the air, faster than he would’ve thought possible. “MOVE!” Jongdae commanded.

“The others!” he yelled, slowing down.

“Fucking _MOVE_.” Jongdae roughly grabbed his arm and pulled as he kept running. Kyungsoo was dragged along, the toes of his sneakers catching on branches as he struggled not to fall. “The others know what they’re fucking doing, so _fucking run_!”

Behind him, Kyungsoo heard the sound of metal slicing through the air, bouncing off something with a low thud, and Kris’s voice, yelling instructions he couldn’t decipher. He kept sprinting, and the beast’s horrible roars of pain thundered all the way down the hill, echoing off the sides of the valley.

 

 

When Kyungsoo stumbled onto the hotel porch, panting and ready to collapse from exertion, Lu Han was already standing, waiting for them.

“What was that?” he demanded, but his voice was hollow, his face clammy and drained of colour. He rounded on Jongdae. “That wasn’t a mountain lion. What the hell was it?”

So he’d seen the same thing. Either it was some kind of crazy group hallucination, or the strange lion was real. Kyungsoo’s gut churned. He wanted to throw up.

Jongdae didn’t respond. He bent down and slowly helped Kyungsoo to his feet.

“You know, don’t you?”

Jongdae placed a hand on Kyungsoo’s back and held open the front door, guiding him into the lobby. “Go up to the lounge,” was all he said. “We’ll wait for the others to come back.”

 

 

For fifteen minutes they sat in tense silence. When Jongdae finally stepped into the lounge, he was accompanied by Chanyeol, Kris and Junmyeon, all of whom looked thoroughly beaten up. Chanyeol’s clothes were torn, his face covered in cuts. Junmyeon’s lip was bleeding. Kris was badly bruised.

Jongdae settled onto the sofa opposite Kyungsoo and Lu Han, while the others sat cross-legged on the floor. He seemed as calm as ever, despite what they had just witnessed. “Okay, we’re back,” he said, his tone measured. “Are you ready to open up about your hallucinations?”

A surge of dread filled Kyungsoo’s chest. “How did you know I’ve been having hallucinations?” Did Baekhyun say something? Why did Chanyeol, Kris and Junmyeon seem to be in on whatever secret this was?

“Everyone is here because of them,” Jongdae said.

“Even you?”

Jongdae glanced at his backup. “Kris, tell them why you came here to stay.”

“I was in a bar fight,” Kris said. “It was all over the tabloids. Everyone thought I was beating up a poor, helpless guy, that I have serious drinking problems, but that wasn’t what _I_ was seeing.”

“What were you seeing?” Lu Han asked flatly. Jongdae raised his hands, palms facing forward.

“One step at a time,” he said. “First, tell us about your experience with hallucinations.”

Lu Han sighed and shook his head. “I… had a few episodes, as a young teenager. Nothing serious, they stopped, but then they started up again. It’s gotten especially bad in the last few years, while I’ve been in Europe for the league. I saw a doctor, went on antipsychotics. Nothing helped.”

Kyungsoo himself had never gone to the psychiatrist. He’d been too afraid of being found out. More than that, he’d always been secretly afraid that even if he described his visions, nobody would be able to understand, or help him.

“I had them pretty bad while growing up,” Kyungsoo said. “I thought it was psychological trauma, or something. Then I moved to Korea, and they stopped. Until very recently. I was attacked at a public press conference, but nobody could see _them_ … except me. Everyone thought I was going insane.”

He’d tried so desperately to shelf the memory, but as he spoke about it it filled his mind, sharper and clearer than ever. The image of the front row of journalists, and the way their fingers withered into claws, teeth lengthening into fangs, their eyes turning to sockets of flame…

Jongdae nodded. “Nobody could see them, except for you. But _we_ can see them, too. Just like the lion earlier. All of us could see it. And that’s because _you’re not crazy_. What you’ve been seeing is real.”

Lu Han stared blankly, his forehead slowly starting to crease. Kyungsoo’s heart sank. His worst fears were being confirmed.

“Before we continue, if you want the conversation to stop at any point, if you’d prefer not to know, just tell us and we’ll stop.” Jongdae waited. Nobody spoke.

“So that lion just now…” Lu Han trailed off.

“It was the Nemean Lion.”

“The what?” The name sounded familiar, but Kyungsoo couldn’t place it.

“It’s a monster,” Kris said. “Just like the _blemmyae_ I fought in the bar. Just like what attacked Kyungsoo at the press conference, and what Lu Han’s been seeing all over Europe.”

“But — but why?” Lu Han asked. “Why can’t other people see them? Why do they want to attack us, and not anyone else?”

“I’ll take the questions one at a time,” Jongdae said. “The answer to _why other people can’t see them_ is the Mist. It’s everywhere you look, twisting reality to fit the perception of whoever’s looking.”

Kyungsoo believed him. He’d seen it happen repeatedly, watched as reality morphed and shifted before his eyes.

“As for why we can see it, and why they want to attack you — it’s because you’re a half-blood. You’re what the monsters exist to hunt. Half human, half god.”

Kyungsoo wasn’t sure he was hearing right. “I’m sorry, what?” Lu Han asked faintly.

“We’re all from single parent households,” Jongdae said, “because one of our parents was a god. A Roman god.”

He fell into shell-shocked silence as the others took turns explaining. Apparently, the Roman Gods were alive and well. They existed as personifications of the Western culture they represented. They continued to sire children with mortals, as they had done in the myths — which apparently, weren’t myths, but history. And monsters continued to roam the earth as manifestations of evil, reborn within the Underworld each time they were killed by a hero, or demigod. There was a training camp for demigods, too, buried somewhere within the Berkeley Hills. Most demigods would find their way there, and train, learning to fight. They would go on quests, fulfil prophecies, defend civilisation from collapse.

It was too much to take in.

“So let me get this right,” Lu Han said slowly. “You’re saying I am half a god, and that my mother was some kind of superhuman being. A manifestation of culture.”

“Well… yes.”

“Do you expect me to believe this? You’re fucking crazy!”

“How else do you want to explain that lion? Or your hallucinations?” Jongdae wasn’t angry, but stood firm. “Sorry, Lu Han, but this is our reality. You’d do best not to challenge it.”

“So you guys are half-god,” Lu Han said, skepticism colouring his tone. “Who’s your parent, then?”

“Jongdae is a son of Salus,” Junmyeon said. “The goddess of safety. That’s why he runs the hotel. My father is Volturnus, god of rivers. Chanyeol’s father is Apollo, and Kris is a son of Victoria. The least competitive son of Victoria to ever be born, I might add.”

“Do _you_ believe what they’re saying?” Lu Han asked Kyungsoo.

Kyungsoo hesitated. The idea still sounded absurd, but even as he thought about it, he felt something stirring within him, as though he’d known all along. And there were whispers from his past, voices echoing in his dreams… a palace on the mountain, surrounded by dark smoke.

“You said the Roman Gods are a personification of the West,” he said slowly. “The things I see get worse in America, but these days I still see them in Korea. Why is that?”

“As contrived as it might sound, globalisation,” Junmyeon answered matter-of-factly. “The Asian influence here is stronger, just as Western influence in the East gets stronger. People from our part of the world, Asia, who ran away to escape their demigod roots, are finding it harder and harder to stay undercover here too. That’s why we set up the hotel — more demigods who went abroad are getting influenced now.”

“And as for continental Europe… you’ve been moving around near Rome and Greece, the Ancient Lands. The monsters there are much, much worse there than they are here.”

“Both of you have had someone by your side protecting you, which is how you made it this far. I believe they were your managers.”

Lu Han’s eyes threatened to pop out of their sockets. “Minseok? He’s one of you?”

“One of us,” Kris corrected. “He’s had his work cut out just keeping you alive.”

“Incidentally, Baekhyun was yours,” Chanyeol said to Kyungsoo.

Kyungsoo spluttered. “You know Baekhyun?”

“He’s my best friend. Son of Mercury. We served in the legion together.”

“And he just so happened to be my manager.”

“It’s no coincidence, Kyungsoo. There are some of us that actively look for adult demigods like yourself, keep an eye on them, make sure they don’t get into trouble. Baekhyun is one of them,” Junmyeon said. “Most of us know each other, because we trained at Camp. But there are some demigods who manage to survive in the mortal world and get successful — like yourself. They’re rare, but obviously, they exist.”

“All of us here” — Jongdae gestured to himself, Junmyeon, Kris and Chanyeol — “attended the camp. All of us, except Kris, completed ten years of service. Anyway, adult demigods get into trouble, usually, or think they’re going crazy, because everyone’s luck runs out. Obviously, regular doctors can't do anything to help them. Then people like Minseok, and Baekhyun step in. That’s where the Hotel comes in.”

There was a pause. Kyungsoo struggled desperately to wrap his head around the idea. “Why didn’t you bring me straight to the camp, or New Rome, wherever it is?”

“Adult demigods are too old to join the legion, and most of them don’t want to. The Hotel is exactly what it’s called — a hiatus. A place for people to learn about themselves and get reassurance that they aren’t sick, they aren't seeing things. From there they figure out what they want to do.”

“It’s like a safe zone,” Junmyeon added. “The Mist conceals it from regular mortals, and Jongdae’s presence protects it. The legionnaires guard the grounds and stop monsters from getting near.”

“Unless they let something slip, like the lion today.”

“Well, yeah.”

“And were you not going to say anything if the lion didn’t turn up?” Lu Han asked.

“We were going to tell you today, regardless. We waited this long, because we needed you to trust us, at least to an extent. This hotel is meant to be a respite for people who are unaware of their heritage, we don’t want to go shocking anyone. Also, we want to give them — you — a choice. Sometimes people don’t want anything to do with our world.”

The silence was heavy. “This is a lot to take in.”

“I’m here to support you. We all are.”

Abruptly, Lu Han stood. “I… need some time to myself.”

“Take whatever time you need. If there’s anything else you want to know, approach any of us.” Jongdae still sounded remarkably calm. Kyungsoo realised that he must have done this many times before, broken life-changing news to unsuspecting hotel guests.

He walked back to his room in a daze. Chanyeol accompanied him right to his door, asking if he was okay. Kyungsoo nodded, but he wasn’t sure. His mind was still frozen, still trying to process.

And that night, his dreams returned.

This time, he saw the palace. He’d seen it when he was living in San Francisco, rising on the mountain like a ghastly apparition from the depths of Tartarus, and this time he didn’t avert his eyes. The edges of the fog trailed upwards, extending feelers that crept around the base of Mount Tamalpais, where it overlooked the Golden Gate Bridge.

The mist rose like a funnel cloud around the body of the mountain, swirling up towards the sky. Now he could tell that far from trying to attack him, it was actually trying to lure him in. _Join us, like the rest of your kin_ , the voice was saying. He didn’t know what it meant — why were those monsters his kin? Was he half god after all, or some kind of monster spawn? It didn’t make him feel any better about himself.

He’d always been able to see through the Mist with apparent ease, even when he was a child. Although the others had said that half-bloods only saw things once they started to develop their powers in their pre-teens, Kyungsoo had seen strange sights roaming the streets since he was a toddler. He had vivid memories of them — a one-eyed man selling roasted chestnuts by the roadside, watching him in his stroller. Girls with flowing hair and corporeal forms floating in the bay, smiling up at him as he walked past. Green-tinged apparitions that seemed to shimmer in and out of existence as they passed through trees in the wood. Teenagers walking around in full battle armour and purple T-shirts.

It had all been real. He’d thought he was psychotic. It turned out, he was seeing reality the whole time. It was other people who were blind.

 

☾

 

Lu Han left the next morning. Kyungsoo caught him as he was checking out in the lobby with his suitcases, waiting for Jongin to take him out on the golf cart. He’d decided to fly back to England, he explained. He still seemed slightly shaken up, but had come to a level of acceptance. He wasn’t interested in knowing more about the gods — just knowing what he was, that he was healthy, was good enough. More than anything, he wanted to get back to training, to the field, and to Minseok.

Kyungsoo said his farewells, somewhat reluctantly. He didn’t want to be alone with the burden of the knowledge they’d just received, alone with the momentous decision he’d have to make. But Lu Han promised to stay in touch, saying he’d call on Kyungsoo if he was ever in Korea. They exchanged contacts, and then Lu Han was gone, disappearing down the forest trail in the back of the golf cart.

It rained throughout the day, torrents of wind and water lashing against his windows. Rain always made Kyungsoo feel melancholy inside.

Sitting at his desk, he tried to wrap his head around the idea.

A Demigod.

Junmyeon had offered for Kyungsoo to talk to him if he wanted, but instead, Kyungsoo pored over the guidebook Jongdae had given him. It was a thin publication like a magazine, printed on glossy paper, titled _An Introductory Guide to Gods and Monsters_. Written, edited and photographed by Jason Grace, _Pontifex Maximus_. The cover was a picture of a city much like a miniature version of Rome, shot from a bird’s-eye view as though from a helicopter. He could see a building that looked like the Colosseum, cobblestone streets wandering through scattered forums and basilicas. He wondered briefly if cameras could shoot through the Mist, or if regular people would just see a photograph of an empty field.

There were people out there just like him — _thousands_ of them, who’d grown up together serving a legion at the camp, eventually settling down in the city. They’d grown up fighting monsters and saving the world. They’d forged friendships on a bedrock of mutual trust and near-death experiences.

Kyungsoo thought of his father, who’d surrendered himself to alcohol and met his tragic end, staggering his way into the trajectory of a speeding car. He hadn’t sent Kyungsoo to the camp. It was kind of hard to do when he was a stain on the tarmac. Instead, he’d gone to Korea and been raised by his aunt, lived a completely different life.

And he thought of his mother. Who was she, and what kind of goddess would have fallen in love with his sad excuse of a father? Why had she never reached out to him, helped him when he was alone, if she was immortal and powerful? Did he want to meet a mother who treated her kids like that? He wondered about the others — had any of them ever met their immortal parents?

At night, Kyungsoo joined Chanyeol by the edge of the suspension bridge. He was sitting cross-legged, a guitar in his lap, overlooking the canyon. Up above, the skies had cleared up from the afternoon rain, the full moon shining in a ceiling of stars.

For once, Chanyeol wasn’t wearing a long-sleeved jumper. He had on a short-sleeved _Abbey Road_ T-shirt with his jeans, and Kyungsoo could see the tattoo on his forearm, a series of parallel stripes like a barcode stamped into his skin. Ten stripes for ten years of service, a lyre to symbolise Apollo, and the initials “SPQR”. It stood for _Senatus Populusque Romanus_ , Chanyeol explained — the Senate and the People of Rome.

“So… how are you feeling?” Chanyeol asked, turning to face Kyungsoo. His wide eyes shone in the light of the full moon.

What a question. There were so many thoughts swirling through Kyungsoo’s mind, he didn’t know where to begin.

“Will Lu Han be alright?” he said at last. “Out there on his own?”

Chanyeol looked uneasy. “Nobody can say for sure,” he admitted. “The Ancient Lands are insanely risky, more so now that he’s got some knowledge of who he is. Staying there… isn’t wise. But he’s got Minseok with him, at least. He’s one of the best fighters, a son of Bellona. I’d trust him with my life.”

Right. As strange as it seemed, Chanyeol was probably close friends with Lu Han’s manager, too. “You said there were others out there… people like Lu Han and me,” Kyungsoo said. “Have you ever met any of them?”

Chanyeol exhaled. “Yeah, just one. I worked here at the hotel, for a couple of weeks after I completed my legion service. There was a man, much like you. He was an actor and singer, he’d gotten into a scandal and thought he was going nuts.”

“What happened to him?” Kyungsoo was almost afraid to ask.

“He chose not to find out who his parent was,” Chanyeol said. “Like Lu Han, he left to take his chances in the mortal world. He was happy there, and he didn’t want the added burden.”

“It sounds like a dangerous choice,” Kyungsoo said carefully. “But… I kind of understand why they wanted that. I’m still unsure myself.”

“It _is_ dangerous.” Chanyeol’s voice was deadly serious. “But life is always dangerous for people like you and I, regardless of our choices.”

“And if I choose to find out? What happens then?”

“There’s still never a guarantee,” Chanyeol warned. “You’ll enter the Wolf House first, start a journey to New Rome. You’ll go to the Valley of the Temples, where there’re monuments to all the gods and goddesses. Your parent might send you a sign. There’s an augur you can consult. But whether you choose to do anything about it after, that’s up to you.”

Kyungsoo nodded. “The guidebook said only people who served ten years in the legion could choose to settle in New Rome.”

“Yeah. Which is why Kris is taking a break here, and not there.”

“But you don’t live there, do you?”

“No.” Absently, Chanyeol plucked at the strings on his guitar. “Some people settle. But I always wanted to see more of the world.”

No, Kyungsoo thought. Someone like Chanyeol would never be happy stuck in the same small city all his life, seeing the same people in an endless cycle of monotonous tomorrows. Someone with so much energy, so much life, would always want to explore and see more, experience more.

Chanyeol was leaning back as he fingered the strings, looking up at the sky. “You know, I actually never thought I’d come back here. I thought I’d fought enough battles for a lifetime. Surely ten years of my life, servicing the gods, would be enough.” He was deep in thought, almost talking to himself. “But after a couple of years out, I realised there were parts of it I missed. Can you believe it? All the times I almost died, selflessly serving a bunch of gods who couldn’t give less of a fuck about me. This world is a part of me — it’s in my blood, it’s all I knew growing up. It’s not something I can just get rid of, pretend to forget.”

He sounded so wistful, Kyungsoo was dying to know more. He wanted to know everything, about the life that had shaped Chanyeol, the monsters he’d fought, the quests he’d been on, the prophecies he’d seen. But that knowledge would be a commitment he wasn’t yet ready to make. “Then why did you come back?”

“Two reasons,” Chanyeol said. “Firstly as a favour to Baekhyun. He must really care about you, because he asked me to come here and look out for you, help you out if you needed it.”

“The second is my father. He appeared before me. I was playing at a festival, and he showed up, surfing the crowd, can you believe? He told me that I would come to the Hotel, and from here he wants me to go on to New Rome. I think he has something for me to do once I get there.”

Kyungsoo felt a twinge of jealousy. Chanyeol knew his father, and had actually met him. “Oh, when are you going?”

Chanyeol smiled. “Tomorrow, I think,” he said, shifting through a few chords. “Isn’t that when you’re leaving?”

It was so soon, Kyungsoo thought. It wasn’t enough time to make such a drastic decision.

“Don’t be in a rush,” Chanyeol said, presumably sensing his agitation. “Wait till the morning. Daybreak is a good time for decisions. It’ll come to you.”

“But what if it doesn’t?” His voice came out sounding much more distressed than he’d intended. “What if I have no clue?”

“I find asking the stars a good place to find clarity,” Chanyeol said. “That, and in music.” He was still staring up at the sky, his expression distant. Kyungsoo followed his gaze, towards the edge of the sky where it brushed the tops of distant mountain ranges.

He picked out the constellations, tracing their shapes with his eyes. “What’s that one?” he asked, pointing at an unfamiliar arrangement. It was right there at the edge, a multitude of glimmering specks sprinkled alongside Capricorn, Sagittarius and Pegasus. He’d never noticed it before, all those nights he’d spent stargazing on the East Bay.

“That’s the Huntress. It’s a relatively new one,” Chanyeol said. “I’ll tell you more about it sometime, if you want. When you’ve decided.”

A _new_ constellation. Kyungsoo couldn’t comprehend the idea. His gaze shifted to the guitar in Chanyeol’s arms. “I think music might be a better bet,” he said. “Could you… play a song for me?”

Chanyeol shifted the guitar on his lap. “Sure. Any requests?”

“Something comforting,” Kyungsoo suggested.

Chanyeol obliged, strumming a series of familiar chords. And then he began to sing, his husky voice washing over Kyungsoo, warm and soothing.

_Lights will guide you home  
And ignite your bones_

It was one of Kyungsoo’s favourite songs, one he’d heard thousands of times. But as Chanyeol played it, the music pulled at Kyungsoo’s heart in ways he’d never felt before, filling him with comfort and a desperate longing. Chanyeol closed his eyes as he sang, and he seemed to get lost in it, as though he wasn’t there any longer — he’d been transported far, far away by the soul of the music he was playing, to a place Kyungsoo couldn’t reach.

Instead of waiting till daybreak, Kyungsoo made his decision that night, sitting up in bed, staring up at the moon which unfailingly brought him comfort. He didn’t fall asleep till much later, when the sound of Chanyeol’s soft singing finally faded from his mind.

 

☾

 

When Kyungsoo stepped into the lobby the next morning, Chanyeol was already there, a black duffel bag at his feet. For a terrifying second, he thought Chanyeol was about to leave, but as he approached Chanyeol rose from the sofa with a smile.

“Hey, was waiting for you,” he said, and Kyungsoo was once again struck by how beautiful he was. For the first time Kyungsoo had seen, he had a bow and a quiver full of arrows strapped to his back. It was a jarring and sobering sight. “Made up your mind?”

Kyungsoo nodded. “But I’m not ready to leave, right this second,” he said. “Could we take a quick walk outside, first?”

 

 

They ventured silently into the woods, keeping close to the hotel. Kyungsoo’s anxiety mounted with every step, until he couldn’t take it any longer. “So the first thing is,” he began at last, voice cracking, “I wanted to talk about us.” As he spoke, he felt painfully unsure, afraid of being shot down. But he had to do it — he knew he would regret if he didn’t broach the topic.

When Chanyeol didn’t respond immediately, Kyungsoo continued. “The thing is, I like you a lot.” He felt certain his face was flushed. “But I don’t know if you feel the same way about me.”

He waited, nervously, to be rejected or affirmed.

Then, to Kyungsoo’s disbelief, Chanyeol laughed. “I thought I’d made it obvious,” he said, quickly reining in his tone when he saw the expression on Kyungsoo’s face. “I’ve been interested in you since the moment I saw you. But I didn’t think you liked me, so I stayed away. I didn’t want to annoy you.”

“What?” That _definitely_ wasn’t what Kyungsoo had been expecting to hear. “Why on earth would you think that?”

Chanyeol shrugged. “You just didn’t seem very receptive? I thought I was coming on too strong. I guess you’re just shy though.” He glanced sideways at Kyungsoo, a shit-eating grin plastered across his face.

Kyungsoo wanted to glare, but burst out laughing instead. “What the hell. At first sight, huh?”

“What, I couldn’t help it, you were so cute. But when I realised you didn’t seem interested, I thought, fine. This is not what I’m here for. I’m here to help him.”

In spite of himself, Kyungsoo felt heat rising to his cheeks. “Cute?”

“Is there something wrong with that?” Chanyeol laughed. “Handsome, too, of course.”

“Thanks. I guess.”

“It’s strange, because we only met a week ago, really,” Chanyeol said. “But I feel like I’ve known you for much longer?”

“I feel the same,” Kyungsoo said. “This sounds odd but… for some reason, being with you feels like home. Like I’ve finally reconnected with a part my life I’ve always known I was missing. And that’s one of the reasons why I’ve made up my mind. I want to go to New Rome.”

“Are you sure?”

Kyungsoo nodded. “A hundred percent.”

“It’ll be an uncertain path,” Chanyeol warned. “And the more you know, the harder it’ll be for you to leave completely.”

“I just want to know who I am, Chanyeol. I’ve not known peace, all of my life, until I came to the Hotel. My problems aren’t going to just _go away_ if I fly back to Korea now.” He took a deep breath. “So I’m going to see more of my world. Will you come with me?”

“Of course,” Chanyeol answered, without missing a beat. “I’ll take you. And from there?”

“I guess we’ll see where we go.” Because how else would he know? Like Chanyeol said, the path ahead was uncertain. Danger was a mainstay in the life of a half-blood, regardless of the choices they made. He couldn’t know what the future held. All he could do was follow his heart and walk towards the future with an open mind. Over the hills, into the depths of The Wolf House, where it was waiting for him.

When they arrived back at the hotel, Chanyeol asked Kyungsoo to wait while he ducked back into the lobby. He re-emerged minutes later with two backpacks, one slung across each shoulder.

“Catch,” he called out, tossing one to Kyungsoo.

Kyungsoo reached out, grabbing the straps. “You packed for me?” he asked, incredulous. “How did you know I’d decide to go?”

“Maybe I was hoping.” Chanyeol grinned. “I’m glad I get to be the one to accompany you on your… journey of self-discovery.” Kyungsoo threw him a look, which he laughed off in his usual easy way. “Ready to go?”

The Fates had their own plan for him, Kyungsoo thought, looking back at the hotel. They’d been cruel, and they’d been kind. He’d felt marginalised, terrorised in his childhood; left alone with an negligent father, to deal with the dreams that haunted him into the night, the visions and monsters. He’d missed out on an entire life. But in other ways, he’d been incredibly lucky — he’d gotten the chance to pursue acting, something he’d always loved. He’d been given fame and fortune. He’d been lucky enough to meet people like Baekhyun, who kept him safe, and eventually brought him to the hotel, where time could stop and he could heal.

Where he'd met Chanyeol. He would follow him anywhere.

“Yeah, I’m ready.”

They walked together, away from the hotel, leaving safety behind.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments and feedback are always appreciated, bonus if you can guess Kyungsoo's parentage!


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